


Two Lonely Hearts Meet in the Dark (Imagine It Now They Start a Spark)

by JackEPeace



Category: Barely Lethal (2015)
Genre: F/F, Gay, alternate ending to the movie, honestly what should have happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 11:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13787190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackEPeace/pseuds/JackEPeace
Summary: “I guess this probably wasn’t what you were expecting,” Liz says to Megan.Megan only shrugs, tipping her head back to try and study the stars through the stark brightness of the lights illuminating the field. “I mean, no one died so I guess it’s a win.”It’s the kind of statement that would seem like a joke in any other situation.





	Two Lonely Hearts Meet in the Dark (Imagine It Now They Start a Spark)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Geeky_MikaBoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geeky_MikaBoo/gifts).



> So basically the movie should have ended like this because hello! Who needs boys and a helicopter when you have pretty girls? 
> 
> I feel like I'm just going to keep writing fics about this movie until Dove Cameron herself tells me to stop so...let's do this thing. 
> 
> For Mika, because when I texted her she said "our gaybies" because hello they are so gay. And also because the title comes from the song "Someday" from that stupid zombie movie and she is to blame for this.

_Don’t you two have a dance to get to?_

It was an odd question, all things considered, but it somehow seemed like the most logical question in the world. Of course they had somewhere it be. It was homecoming and they were teenagers and thinking about the dance and their dresses made everything else -all the spy stuff and the violence and the threat of imminent death- seem somehow far away.

And so they went, Megan looking slightly worse for wear than she had when they’d left originally. When there had been four of them, instead of just the two of them, and Liz had helped Megan with her hair and complimented her dress and tried to figure out exactly what she saw in Cash anyway.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Liz asks, unable to help herself, even though the words had just left her mouth moments before.

Megan nods, flipping down the visor to study herself in the mirror. “Do you think I need to touch up my eyeliner or something?”

Liz rolls her eyes. “Um, no,” she says flatly. “I was more talking about the fact that you just got thrown into a table, but you know, whatever.”

Liz lets her fingers brush lightly against the cuts across Megan’s back and shoulders, punctuated by little nicks. She hasn’t really seemed to notice them, aside from the perfunctory cleaning, done in the downstairs bathroom to clear away the blood, and for some reason that makes Liz achingly sad.

Megan looks at her and smiles and that does little to lessen the dull ache that Liz feels in her chest. “Yeah, totally,” she says. “Let’s go.”

There had been talk about doing something absurdly ridiculous, about finding the boys -Roger this time and not Cash, though Liz can’t quite bring herself to admit the improvement- and borrowing one of Prescott’s helicopters and disappearing into the night to give the whole thing one of those teen-movie endings, just like Megan has clearly always wanted.

But, in the end, they had dismissed the idea, deciding to go back to the dance instead, to keep their wild stories to a minimum for the night.

The gym is already emptier than it was before and Liz wonders if it’s the fact that it’s growing late or the fact that the dance had already descended into violence earlier but there are only a few couples still lingering, and a few groups hanging around the snack table, picking through the free food. The chaperones are standing around, still looking baffled by the events of the night, shaking their heads and talking about clean-up and what it’ll be like on Monday.

Liz can see Cash, sitting at one of the tables, strumming on his guitar while Mr. Drumm sits uncomfortable close beside him, nodding along to whatever song Cash is singing under his breath.

She can’t help the way that her eyes slide toward Megan, a question on her face and a tightness in her chest. But Megan doesn’t seem to notice, looking at Cash for only the briefest of moments before turning her attention back to Liz. “Maybe we should just get out of here.”

“The helicopter again?” Liz teases, feeling strangely relieved about the fact that two is apparently not about to become three.

Megan grins. “Nah, I’m a little rusty,” she says. “Maybe we should just stay on solid ground for now.”

Which is probably the best idea, seeing as the last time she was in a fast-moving vehicle with Megan she threw up in the backseat.

Not that Liz is about to point that out. 

Instead, they just head out the back door of the gym and back into the hazy warm October night, heading across the track toward the bleachers that ring the football field. Liz smooths down her dress as she sits on the warm metal, her fingers curling around the edges of the bleachers. With Megan beside her, it almost seems like the perfect way to end her first experience with a school dance. “I guess this probably wasn’t what you were expecting,” she says to Megan.

Megan only shrugs, tipping her head back to try and study the stars through the stark brightness of the lights illuminating the field. “I mean, no one died so I guess it’s a win.”

It’s the kind of statement that would seem like a joke in any other situation.

“I’m sorry to ruin your homecoming,” Megan says, and Liz looks at her, surprised. “You looked really pretty and I’m sorry you didn’t get to spend more time with Gooch.”

Liz can’t help but make a face, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t really care about that,” she assures Megan. “I just…I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried about you.”

Megan makes a dismissive sound. “Knox will have to try harder if she wants to take me out.”

Liz tries to smile but honestly the thought isn’t all that appealing, all things considered. “I’m glad she didn’t.”

“I mean, I did have backup.” Megan nudges Liz’s shoulder with her own. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone use a corndog as a weapon. Hardman would be impressed.”

Liz scoffs. “All cafeteria food can be used as a weapon if you try hard enough,” she says dryly.

Megan lays her head on Liz’s shoulder and she tenses, briefly, at the contact and hopes that Megan doesn’t notice, doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t seem to, doesn’t seem interested in anything but making herself comfortable against Liz’s side.

Which Liz doesn’t mind at all.

She wonders when that happened, when she stopped caring about Megan keeping her distance and started to enjoy when she took it upon herself to invade Liz’s personal space.

“This wasn’t a bad homecoming,” Liz says, trying not to look at Megan while she says it. “Not that I really have anything to compare it to.”

Even still, she has a feeling this one would rank pretty high in her mind: cute dresses, messy hair, Megan Walsh and stargazing on the bleachers. How do you top something like that?

Megan grins. “Just imagine what prom will be like.”

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Liz shuffles downstairs, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand and stopping short when she gets to the foot of the stairs. “Oh yeah,” she mumbles when she takes in the living room. “I forgot about all this.”

Her mother, currently attempting to pick up the pieces of the broken coffee table, only shakes her head. “I’ve been thinking about this mess all night,” she mutters. “Grab some gloves from the kitchen and come help me.”

Liz goes into the kitchen to get a pair of yellow, rubber monstrosities from underneath the sink and returns to where her mother is trying to clean up. She feels a bit ridiculous in her polar bear pajama bottoms and her _science doesn’t care what you believe_ tee shirt with a pair of rubber gloves on her hands and her bunny slippers. “Is Prescott going to pay for all this stuff?”

She doesn’t even want to think about having to tackle the rest of the mess in the living room. At least someone tacked up a blue tarp to the side of the house rather than leave them with a gaping hole where the windows had once been.

Her mom only sighs, handing over the trash bag. “We can only hope,” she grumbles. “Hold this open and watch the glass.”

Dutifully, Liz stands there with the trash bag between her hands, watching as her mother collects the splintered wood and the shards of glass that litter the living room. “How was the dance?” Her mom asks, a question that seems ridiculous given their current situation.

Liz shrugs. “It was nice,” she says. “Megan and I just hung around.”

Raising an eyebrow, her mother asks, “Just you and Megan, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” Liz replies flatly with an eyebrow lift of her own. “What?”

“What happened to the boys?”

Another shrug. “I dunno,” Liz says. “I guess they went home.”

She thinks about the text she’d sent to Bernard before hurrying home with Megan the night before: _gotta go, I’ll keep you updated!_ and how he had texted her later, just a series of question marks.

She knows that she should have told him they were going back to the dance, should have told them that everything was okay and she would explain later. But Liz hasn’t felt the urge to pick up her phone and fill him in on any of the details.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Liz questions, narrowing her eyes. “Why are you acting so weird?”

Her mother shakes her head, grabbing the splintered remains of the coffee table and dragging them toward the front door. “No reason,” she says. “Just curious.”

Together, they get the murdered coffee table out to the edge of the road for the garbage pickup on Monday. Liz carefully ties up the bag full of glass and wood, dropping it down on the sidewalk. She pulls off the gloves, looking over toward her mother. “Mom?” Her mother hums in response. “Megan is going to be able to stay with us, right?”

“What do you mean?” Her mom asks. “Why wouldn’t she be able to?”

“I mean…she’s not really a foreign exchange student from Canada,” Liz points out. “And, you know, if Prescott wants her to come back or you don’t want her to stay anymore because of the whole assassin thing like-”

“Honey,” Penny interrupts, resting a hand on Liz’s shoulder. “Megan is welcome to stay here with us. For as long as she wants.”

Liz smiles faintly, slightly relived by her mother’s words.

“I’ve kinda liked having her around,” Penny continues as they start back toward the house. “It’s been nice.”

Liz nods. “Yeah.” She says, “I’ve kinda liked having her around too.”

 

* * *

 

By lunch time, Megan still hasn’t made an appearance and it’s getting harder and harder for Liz to ignore the twist of anxiety in her stomach because of this. Megan is an annoyingly early riser and always so damn cheerful in the morning. For her to be the last person awake, even on a Saturday, is strange.

“Parker,” Liz says as she fixes her brother something for lunch. Penny has gone off to the hardware store, grudgingly ready to start the process of getting the hole in their house fixed. “You haven’t talked to Megan today, have you?”

Parker shakes his head, turning the page of his Goosebumps book. “She’s probably asleep,” he says. “Kicking ass is hard work.” He says this confidently, like he can speak from personal experience.

Liz rolls her eyes at him, dropping the plate in front of him. “Don’t say ass.”

Parker gives her a look. “You just did.”

Liz decides that she has better things to do than engage in verbal warfare with a ten-year-old. Like checking up on Megan.

In all likelihood, Liz knows that Parker is probably right. Megan is probably sleeping in after a busy night full of homecoming dances and kicking ass.

But there’s still a voice in the back of her mind that worries, one that whispers to her about 84, who disappeared without a trace after the whole corndog incident. Or Knox, who might have slipped Prescott custody again and come back to finish what she started.

Or even Prescott, whisking Megan back into the fold after all.

Though, there’s an even crueler voice, one that even more insistently whispers that Megan has left on her own, that she’s decided to follow through with her earlier assurance that she would leave the Larsons to keep them safe. A voice that tells Liz that when she knocks on Megan’s door and pushes it open that she’ll find the room empty and no trace of Megan left at all.

Liz tries to push back these thoughts, to silence these voices, swallowing and knocking gently on the closed bedroom door. “Megan?”

Her question is greeted with silence, long and heavy and the knot in Liz’s stomach tightens enough that she can hardly breathe and then-

“Yeah?”

The voice is muffled and tired but unmistakably Megan’s.

Liz exhales in a whoosh, embarrassed by the relief that suddenly flows through her. “Can I come in?”

The question is answered with a sound of some sort that Liz decides to take as an affirmative and she pushes the door open and steps into the room.

Megan is still in bed, wrapped in the comforter, and when she sees Liz, she gives her a weak smile. “Hey.”

“What’s the matter?” Liz questions, brow furrowing at the sight of her. “Are you sick?”

“No, I’m fine,” Megan says in a voice that doesn’t really add credence to her comment. “Just sore, but I’ll live.”

Liz frowns and then…duh, of course. Being thrown threw a coffee table and taking a few kicks to the ribs would probably make anyone sore.

“Megan.” Liz steps closer to the bed and she can see the bruise blossoming on Megan’s shoulder, an indication of what the rest of her probably looks like. “What can I do?”

Her first impulse is to rest her hand against the darkening skin, to get into bed with Megan and just be close to her, to be near her even if she can’t do anything more. Liz swallows when the little voice in her mind reminds her that the only reason Megan is even hurting it because of her.

Because Knox’s men had found her outside and she hadn’t been able to help herself, hadn’t been able to help Megan, hadn’t been able to do anything to protect her against Knox. No, that responsibility had fallen squarely on Megan’s shoulders.

“I could use some aspirin,” Megan says finally, pulling Liz out of her reverie. She gives Liz an apologetic smile.

Liz hurries back downstairs, grabbing the aspirin from the cabinet and filling a glass with water and ice. She hesitates before turning back, taking two more plates down from the cabinets and busying herself with making more sandwiches. Parker watches her, hopping out of his chair dutifully when Liz tells him to take one of the plates and glasses and help her carry the stuff up to Megan’s room.

Megan has managed to get herself into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard, and when Liz walks back into the room, she can see even more bruising, more darkening skin around the angry looking cuts on Megan’s back.

“Here,” Liz says, handing over the plate, “I thought you might be hungry. And you shouldn’t take this stuff on an empty stomach.” She shakes the aspirin bottle before setting it on the nightstand beside the bed.

Megan grins at her and tilting her head toward the plate in Parker’s hands. “Does that mean you guys are staying too?”

“I am,” Liz says, taking the plate from Parker and shooing him toward the door. “Don’t get into any trouble, okay?”

Parker waves a hand at her just as Liz shuts the door. Liz situates herself on the edge of Megan’s bed and they eat for a while in silence, Megan much more ravenously than Liz. The cold pit in her stomach, fostered by her guilt for the night before, makes it difficult for her to do much more than just swallow a few bites of her sandwich.

“I’m sorry,” Liz finally says quietly, setting the plate aside. “For last night. I should have been able to do something to help you, something to-”

“Liz, are you crazy?” Megan lifts her eyebrows. “Knox is a professional killer. I’m just glad that you didn’t get hurt.”

“But _you_ did,” Liz points out, her voice pitched high. “You did get hurt. Because of us.”

Megan shakes her head. “No, Liz, don’t say that.”

Liz can only look down at her hands. “I should have been better…sneakier…if that man hadn’t found me then you could have kept the upper hand on Knox and…it would have been different…”

Last night, when she’d gotten back to the house, Megan had pressed her back into the dark eaves of the porch and told her to hide, and to remain hidden, to keep herself out of sight until Megan came back and got her. “I’ll get your mom and Parker, I promise,” she had said, before slipping off to creep into the house.

And Liz had stayed there, hidden away in the shadows, for a few seconds. But then she had thought about 84 and how good it had felt to do something to help Megan, to take 84 down, even if just for a moment. How if she had been able to do that then how hard could it be to do it again?

So she had left, trying to sneak around the house and the confidence and certainty that she had felt had disappeared the second Knox’s man’s meaty fingers had curled around her neck, yanking her backward and to her feet. She hadn’t been afraid, not at first, because her first thought had been of Megan and how Megan would stop anything bad from happening to her.

But then the gun had come out, the metal pressing against the side of her head and Liz had been very afraid then.

And she hadn’t stopped being afraid, even when the man had dragged her into the house, his arm tight and sweaty around her, pinning her to his chest. Her feet had barely even touched the floor as he’d pulled her along and Liz had wondered if he could feel the way her heart was pounding in her chest, could taste the fear on her tongue the way that she could. It had been utterly different then it had been in the kitchen back at school. She had been so utterly without control, so pathetically unable to do anything to stop this man from doing whatever he wanted to her.

In the living room, there had been Megan and her mother and Parker and Liz hadn’t even been able to really notice everyone else, hadn’t even really been able to think about her mother and her brother because her eyes had just settled on Megan and she hadn’t been able to look anywhere else. Because, for the first time, Megan had looked afraid. She had been in control of the situation, she’d had her guns and her wits and then…then she hadn’t had anything, and it had been because of Liz.

Because she was nothing but a helpless idiot.

Megan shakes her head, sitting up straighter, grimacing even as she leans toward Liz. “No, Liz, stop,” she says, reaching for her and taking her hand. “Don’t talk like that. I’m just glad you’re safe, okay? I don’t know what I would have done if Knox had done something to you.”

Liz looks at her fingers curled tightly around Megan’s and smiles faintly. “Found another host family, I guess,” she jokes.

But Megan’s expression doesn’t change, her eyes still stormy, her brow wrinkled. “Don’t,” she says. “I was really worried about you.”

Liz looks up at her. “You were worried about _me_?” She asks, incredulous. “I didn’t do anything but sit there.”

“If something had happened to you…” Megan shakes her head, swallowing. “It would have been my fault. You would have gotten hurt again, because of me.”

“Megan, what happened with the car wasn’t your fault, it was Knox’s,” Liz points out. “And…everything would have been so much worse if you hadn’t been there. Then and last night. You kept us safe.”

Megan swallows, shaking her head. “I don’t think it counts if I also put you in danger. This isn’t what I thought would happen when I came here. I never wanted anything to happen to you.”

Liz squeezes her hand, holding it tightly. “Nothing happened to me,” she says with a forced smile. “Everything is fine.”

Their eyes meet and Liz can see Megan relax, however slightly, can see some of the worry leave her eyes. Finally, Megan just nods, as though she’s come to a sort of silent agreement with herself. “You should stay,” Megan says.

“I will if you will,” Liz replies without thinking.

Megan rolls her eyes. “I can’t exactly go anywhere,” she points out. “Way too sore to move.”

But Liz has a feeling they both know Liz wasn’t just talking about today, now.

Even still, Liz can’t help but feel reassured.

“I’ll go get my computer and we can watch one of those stupid movies you love,” Liz says, slipping off the bed and reluctantly freeing her hand from Megan’s. “I’ll try not to judge you too hard.”

Megan grins and does a little fist pump. “ _Clueless_ , yes.”

Liz rolls her eyes at Megan as she leaves the room, grabbing her laptop from her room before returning to the guest room that Megan has made her own. Megan has moved over enough to leave a place for Liz to sit down beside her and she does, setting the laptop between them.

“ _Clueless,_ seriously?” Liz grumbles, though it’s mostly just for show.

“You’ll learn to love it,” Megan assures her as the movie starts.

Liz is about to protest but then Megan leans against her, resting her head on her shoulder once more and she forgets what she’s so annoyed about in the first place.

There are definitely worse things she could be doing with her Saturday afternoon, after all.


End file.
